Exclusive cover reveal and excerpt: ‘All In’ by Shelley Shepard Gray

Exclusive cover reveal and excerpt: ‘All In’ by Shelley Shepard Gray

HEA unveils the cover and shares an excerpt from contemporary romance All In (The Bridgeport Social Club #2) by Shelley Shepard Gray, arriving Feb. 12, 2019.

About the book:

Meredith Hunt is content with her solo life. She owns and runs a successful Pilates studio, volunteers at the high school every week, and recently bought a house. She can take care of herself, which is good because she has a hard time relying on other people. When she’s mugged and a handsome man comes to her rescue, she doesn’t know how to accept his help—or how to stop staring into his chocolate-brown eyes.

Ace Vance moved to Bridgeport to offer his fifteen-year-old son, Finn, a better life. Here, Finn has a chance to play football for a good team and maybe even earn a college scholarship. And Ace scored a job at a top-notch garage, where he gets to fix up classic cars. Plus, they could both use some distance from Finn’s toxic mom. The last thing on his mind is falling in love, but he can’t help offering assistance to a gorgeous redhead in need.

Thrown together by a careless criminal, Meredith and Ace can’t deny their attraction. But can they open their hearts—and their lives—to make room for love?

Shelley Shepard Gray’s Bridgeport Social Club series explores how communities can come together to support each other, whether it’s around a poker table, in a Pilates studio, or anywhere in between. Get ready to fall in love with a group of men and women who, even when they feel lost, refuse to lose hope.

EXCERPT (from chapter one)

From Les Larke’s Terms for Poker Success:All In: When a player bets everything he’s got. Be
advised that this can be a risky undertaking. If you
lose, there’s nothing left.

—

Saturday

The shove came out of nowhere, hitting Meredith Hunt hard on her shoulder and knocking her down onto the paved walking path. Feeling both shocked and confused, she threw out her hands in a weak attempt to break her fall. But instead of helping the situation, a sharp, fierce pain reverberated along her right hand. Pebbles tore into her other palm, her knees, and parts of her thighs. She felt dizzy. Stunned. Half in shock.

What the heck had just happened?

Panic overtook her as she realized that whoever had just rammed her to the ground had taken off with her backpack—the backpack that would have been secure on her back with its chest clip had she not been retrieving her water bottle at that exact moment.

Just like that, a dozen images of what was stashed in there flitted through her head. Her wallet. Her phone. Her keys … Her address. The idea of any of that coming into a stranger’s hands was enough to make her jump to her feet.

Well, she would’ve jumped up—or even simply sat up—if she hadn’t been feeling so dizzy.

“Hey. Hey, are you all right?”

Opening one eye, she realized a man was kneeling next to her. He had short black hair, dark eyes, scruff on his cheeks, and a very concerned expression. He was what her best friend in high school would have called dreamy.

“I think so,” she muttered, horrified to realize that she sounded gritty and hoarse. Like she was barely hanging on. Which, unfortunately, pretty much summed up exactly how she felt.

The guy’s expression grew more concerned. “I saw some punk push you down. Looks like you hit the ground hard.”

Hating that she was still sprawled out in front of him, she stretched a leg experimentally. “I need to get up.”

“Hold on. What hurts, darlin’?” he drawled. Though she knew better than be taken in by a drawl and a cast-off endearment, she relaxed a little. This man was a stranger but he didn’t seem dangerous. Just as her conscience started to remind her that good looks and charm really didn’t mean anything at all, he reached out to slip a hand under her head. “Is your neck okay?” he asked quietly. “Can you move?”

Thinking that was a good idea, she moved her head, realizing as she did that it was being supported by a very big hand. “I’m all right. I hit my head, but I think my hand got the worst of it.”

He shifted. Took a knee, which was covered in faded denim. “Just your hand?”

She knew what he was getting at. She was acting a little peaked for someone who had just a cut palm. Thinking of all her students who powered through her classes even when they were struggling or in pain, Meredith tried to get a grip on herself. “Maybe … I guess I hit the ground kind of hard. I’m a little stunned.” Maybe a lot stunned, since she’d just mentally compared the color of his eyes to her favorite dark Ghirardelli chocolate bar.

After studying her a moment longer, he slid his hand out from under her head to her arm. “Ma’am, I’m going to take your elbow, okay? We need to get you sitting up.”

Ma’am? She swallowed. Did she really look that old?

“Dad, what are you doing?” a voice called out. “Oh my gosh. Miss Hunt?”

Surprised, Meredith focused on the person just beyond her rescuer. Finn. He was a sophomore at Bridgeport High—one of the kids she helped out when she volunteered in a friend’s class once a week. Finn was fifteen, muscular, almost six foot, and a little on the chunky side. He was built like the football player she’d recently learned he was.

However, in spite of all that brawn, there was still a sweetness to him. His face still had a touch of peach fuzz that most underclassmen boys at the school had. He also had dark brown eyes and dark hair. Pretty much the spitting image of the man was still kneeling by her side.

“Hey Finn. Fancy seeing you here.” Inwardly she winced. Had she really just said that?

Finn blinked, then grinned, like she’d really amused him. The man by her side, the one whose hand was still curved protectively around her elbow, looked confused.

No doubt that was not only because his kid knew her, but also because she’d spouted such an idiotic phrase while lying on the ground. When she noticed that his free hand was hovering in her general direction, that he didn’t want to manhandle her without her permission, she tentatively smiled at him.

That was all he needed to wrap that hovering hand around her side. A little above her waist. A little below her breast. Not that she should be noticing anything like that. After all, she was a Pilates instructor. She knew that positioning other people didn’t mean anything personal. Usually, it really was just an offer of assistance.

But still, she was aware of his touch as she moved to a sitting position. She breathed deep, hoping to get her bearings. But all she got was a good whiff of him. He smelled like soap and tobacco and peppermint. It shouldn’t have been a good combination. Neither should have been his underlying scent—the one that signaled he was all man.

She really needed to get her bearings. Like, immediately.

“You all right?” he murmured.

“Um-hum,” she whispered back, though why she was whispering, she didn’t really know.

Finn stepped closer and looked down at her. “Miss Hunt?”

She summoned what she hoped was a sunny smile. “I’m going to be just fine.”

The man looked from her to the boy in confusion. “I’m guessing y’all know each other.”

“I help out in one of his classes,” she replied. “Finn, well, he’s currently my favorite sophomore.”

Blushing, Finley ducked his head as he dropped to one knee next to his dad. “You tell everyone that.”

“Maybe. But right now it’s true.” Looking at his dad, she attempted to act like the situation was normal, even though she was lying on the ground in the middle of the bike trail. “Hi. I’m Meredith Hunt.”

“You work at the high school?”

“Work? No, not really. I’m just a volunteer.”

“She helps out in Miss Springer’s classroom, Dad,” Finley explained before turning back to her. “Miss Hunt, are you really gonna be all right? That guy who shoved you was really big.”

Still feeling out of sorts, she tried to nod, but was immediately hit with a monster headache. “He grabbed my backpack.”

Finn frowned. “I thought that was what he did. Sorry we weren’t close enough to grab him.”

Even imagining Finn getting tangled up with the man who’d shoved her made her tense up. “I’m glad you weren’t any closer! He was kind of big. You could have been hurt. No backpack is worth that.”

While Finn looked like he was about to start laughing, his dad looked affronted. “That kid wouldn’t have hurt us. But to be honest, I wasn’t thinking about your pack.”

He’d been thinking about her.

“I wish I’d been more aware of what was going on. My life is in that backpack.”

“Like you just said, it’s just a backpack,” Finn’s dad said softly, a thick drawl accentuating every word. “We’ve also got more important things to worry about.”

Shelley Shepard Gray

About Shelley

Shelley Shepard Gray is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of numerous romantic fiction series and mystery novels, including the Bridgeport Social Club series, Seasons of Sugarcreek series, the Sisters of the Heart series, the Families of Honor series and others. She is a recipient of RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award.